The Case of Sherlock's Birthday
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: Molly treats her husband to the best birthday he's ever had. What cold she possibly have in store for Sherlock? Rated M for a reference to Making Love lol!
1. Partners In Crime (Solving)

One year ago today, Sherlock had been detoxing from the nightmare case of saving John and stopping Culverton Smith. He had gone to have cake with John and Molly, his two closest friends. It had been nice—well, as nice as it could be. There was still an underlying tension between him and Molly; an unsolved mystery. He was ashamed for how he had acted toward her in the ambulance that day. He had been crass and inappropriate, unbuttoning her cardigan and making suggestive comments.

Currently, it was his birthday once more. In fact, it was nearing two in the morning when he woke suddenly from the memories that plagued his mind. Molly's breathing pattern changed, alerting him to the fact she was also awake.

"Happy Birthday, love," she spoke softly, cupping his face before pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

"Thank you, darling," he replied, thankful she was here with him.

"What's wrong?" she asked with concern.

"I don't think I ever apologized for what happened in the ambulance," he answered. "I'm sorry, Molly."

"Come here," she told him. He moved closer to her, laying his head over her breast. Her fingers played with his curls, calming him. "I forgive you. I forgave you long ago. I know your birthday doesn't hold the best memories, but I don't want you to think of it that way. Today is a day for celebration."

"Why's that?" he questioned.

"Because forty one years ago today, the man I fell in love with was born. And that's pretty special to me," she smiled. Sherlock turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the swell of her breast, nuzzling her with his nose. It didn't take long for it to escalate. They made love slowly, taking their time playing around before joining together. Molly wanted to draw it out for as long as possible, wanting to show her husband how much he meant to her, how much she loved him.

* * *

"Happy Birthday, Sherlock," John called out as he strolled into 221B. "I brought Rosie and—" he stopped short, eyes widened at the sight before him. Sherlock and Molly were cooking breakfast together; a proper English breakfast. It was still strange to see him so domesticated, but it was a nice change of pace.

"Thank you, John," Sherlock replied. "How's my favourite goddaughter?"

"Unca Wock!" she struggled in John's arms, reaching out to her godfather. She was handed to Sherlock who was more than happy to hold her.

"She's your only goddaughter," John pointed out.

"John, would you like some breakfast?" Molly asked as she prepared plates.

"Just ate actually, but thank you," he replied. "I just wanted to stop by before running some errands. Oh, Molly, I have this for you." Sherlock watched with curiosity as John handed her a manila envelope that she left on the counter. Molly came over to press a kiss to Rosie's head of blonde curls before going back to tend to breakfast. "Rosie and I will see you two later for cake." And with that, John left and that's when Sherlock pounced.

"What's in the envelope?" he asked.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," she smirked. "First, breakfast." He sat down, begrudgingly, and Molly laughed at the childish pout on his face.

"When can I find out?" he questioned her further.

"Tonight," she answered. "You have another gift first."

"So whatever's in that envelope is a gift? One that you and John conjured up together no doubt," he deduced. It took all she had to not choke on her food. She and John did not 'conjure' anything together.

"No deducing!" she scolded him. "Please, Sherlock? Just this once. I really want to surprise you."

"Okay," he agreed. "I'll try my best not to, I promise."

* * *

After breakfast, Molly had gotten changed into jeans, a grey jumper with kittens on it and her pink and blue striped scarf. Her hair was up in a ponytail as if she had planned to work today.

"Did you get called in?" he asked.

"Nope," she smirked, popping the 'p' the same way he does. "Get dressed, mister, Lestrade will be here in a couple of minutes."

"And what exactly are we doing?" he inquired.

"I found a case for you. Well, for us. It may just qualify as a ten," Molly replied.

"Molly Holmes, I love you! Thank you!" he kissed her firmly but quickly in excitement. She giggled at his enthusiasm as he went to change. When Sherlock returned, Lestrade had just walked through the door.

"Many happy returns!" Greg greeted him. "I thought this case was obvious, but Molly convinced me that there may be more to it than meets the eye. Heiress Millicent Ashworth of the Ashworth Estate was murdered and her fortune was left to a man she only met two weeks before."

"And you believed this man was the murderer." It wasn't a question. "Too obvious. There must be a reason for her choice of inheritor."

"Fancy a trip to the Ashworth Estate?" Molly asked, almost as giddy over it as he was.

"It's a date," he smiled.

"Only you two would call this a date," Greg chuckled.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Woo! I'm gonna attempt a real case lol!


	2. The Ashworth Estate

"Wow, bet ya this place is haunted," Molly remarked, taking in the old Victorian-style mansion.

"Wouldn't doubt it," he replied, much to her surprise.

"No snide remarks about how ghosts aren't real?" she asked in amusement.

"Ghosts are very real, Molly…I've seen one," he told her, unwilling to elaborate on his response. She felt that she might question him further on that topic later. Upon entering, the cool, stale air hit them immediately and the floorboards creaked beneath their feet.

"She only died a week ago," Molly pointed out. "Why is this place so lifeless already?"

"Lestrade said she was an odd woman; didn't like to clean much unless necessary," Sherlock answered. The sound of Molly's laughter alerted him. "What?"

"It's just…sounds like you," she teased.

"I kept my flat in better condition than this when it was just me," he defended himself.

"I know," she agreed. "Come on, I bet there's secret passages in this place!"

"This isn't Cluedo, darling, you're not going to find—" his jaw dropped slightly when the book case swiveled from her pushing on it.

"Told you," she smirked.

"Oh, you're brilliant, you are," he smiled, following behind her.

"I know," she said smugly, following the stairs upward, Sherlock right behind her. The stairway led up to an attic filled with all kinds of things. Storage bins, trunks and old sheets covering stored furniture littered the place. The dust was overwhelming, causing Molly to sneeze several times as she lifted open one of the trunks. Sherlock searched for the murder weapon, as it was missing at the crime scene. The woman hadn't been old by any means; she was middle-aged, about early fifties.

"How come no one has assumed it was her husband who killed her," Sherlock remarked. "He finds out she changed her will to leave everything to a young man she only met two weeks before her death. I would think he'd be furious at her for it because most men believe they are entitled."

"Well, at least I know my husband won't kill me," she quipped. Sherlock's whole demeanor changed in that moment, his mind going back to the fact the villains he had been associated with—including his own sister—had put Molly in danger. _He_ had put her in danger. "I'm sorry, Sherlock…a bit not good?"

"A bit, yeah," he replied, walking over to her and pressing a kiss in her hair.

"Well, look, I found adoption papers," she told him. "Well, proof that a child had been put up for adoption. It looks like she was with child at seventeen and her parents forced her to give the baby up. It was a closed adoption."

"Which means," he began.

"That the young man she met just two weeks before," Molly continued.

"Could be her son!" they finished together.

"We'd just have to prove it somehow," Sherlock added.

"You're probably right about the husband being the murderer," she told him. "Their last names don't match nor did they ever have children of their own. He probably expected to gain from her life insurance and her inherited wealth."

"But where is the husband now?" he wondered. They knew they'd have to do some digging to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** sorry it took a while for me to get this chapter up! though it's short, it took me forever to figure out where I wanted to take it.


	3. The Big Reveal

The husband had been located by the police, having been caught smuggling bags of jewels and money through the airport. The very same inheritance that belonged to Ashworth's long lost son. She and her husband had been estranged for years since he found out that she had had a son long ago out of wedlock. When he found out she was leaving everything to her son, her husband set out to murder her and take her valuables. The woman had been deeply in love with the man who fathered her son. Millicent's parents never approved of her love and forced her to give the child up for adoption at the young age of seventeen.

Blood tests were done and DNA was matched. Thomas Arlington was, in fact, Millicent Ashworth's long lost son. The inheritance was his alone, which he would be rightfully given days after his mother's estranged husband was caught by Sherlock Holmes and arrested.

* * *

Later that evening, when the case was solved, Sherlock and Molly returned home. He still eyed the envelope within the folder curiously.

"Darling, as much as I enjoyed the case we just finished together, I'd very much like to know what's in that envelope," he pleaded with his eyes.

"Well, if you must," she smiled knowingly. "Go on and open it." Molly watched as his eyes read the contents of the envelope. It was wonderful seeing his lips pressed in a tight line slowly become a loving smile. When he looked back up at his wife, he saw a positive pregnancy test in her hand. Setting the envelope aside, he rushed over to her, wrapping her in a warm embrace, lifting her feet off the ground. She laughed as he spun her around, pressing kisses to her face.

"I'm going to be a father," he spoke incredulously. "We're having a baby. We made it together."

"Yes," she laughed, "we are. We did." He sunk to his knees, his arms circling her waist, and pressed kisses to her tummy that had yet to begin growing. Molly's fingers brushed his curls back affectionately, tears spilling over from the happiness she felt.

"I love you, little honeybee," he murmured. Sherlock stood up and kissed his wife quite passionately. "And of course, I love you, Mrs. Holmes."

"Happy Birthday, my sweet husband," she told him. "I love you too." A squeal of surprise left her mouth when he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to their bedroom. "Sherlock, we have to eat! I'm hungry!" She was giggling the whole time.

"Mm, I'm hungry too," he spoke in a low, seductive voice. More of Molly's giggles sounded from the bedroom, and if the entirety of Baker Street heard them, well, that wasn't any of Mrs. Hudson's business.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I know I really shortened the investigative part, but I was struggling with it despite having already known who the murderer was gonna be.


End file.
